He preferred Spain but had just been chattering on (in a language he knew she didn't understand!) about Holland. A fire sparked deep in her chest, the one that she always struggled to control and frequently forced her to lash out at her loved ones. She released his hand, using her mother's questioning gaze as her excuse, and tried to silently smother the rippling flames.

Where did she want to travel? Holland, if for no reason other than he didn't want to discuss it. But, Don Juan had never witnessed this side of her. The one that was violent and cruel and spiteful. If he saw it now when he already had doubts about her family ...

She had to smother it.

"I miss France." Valencia replied simply, looking out at the water instead of him.

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